


May Good Soldiers Fail, May Good Men Rise

by Millberry_5



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Not Beta Read, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, There's only one non-canon death in here and it's the one you want, and, epistolary sections, mentioned Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, or an attempt at one, vignette fic, vignettes are decidedly not my style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25496860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millberry_5/pseuds/Millberry_5
Summary: Sometimes, you just need one more thing in your favor, one more chance, to succeed. Sometimes, a little more communication ends up going much further than anyone thinks it will. Sometimes, suggesting to your upset lover that he keeps in contact with the man none of you wanted to send to a penal battalion, but had to, leads to things not even masterminds could predict. Sometimes, this is enough to get through the trials and tribulations to an outcome you shouldn't have been able to reach.Sometimes is this time. This time, Obi-Wan suggests that Rex check up on Dogma, and, in the end, that is enough.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi/CT-7567 | Rex, Dogma & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, Dogma (Star Wars) & CT-7567 | Rex, Dogma/Slick (Star Wars)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 255
Collections: Clone Wars Saved Exchange 2020





	1. The Failures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gabriel4Sam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel4Sam/gifts).



The door opened very calmly and impersonally considering the maelstrom of emotions it let through into Obi-Wan’s room.

“Rex,” Cody said, a firm reprimand in his voice, although it was not void of compassion.

“I know!” Rex exclaimed, tearing off his helmet as he marched himself over to Obi-Wan’s bunk and threw himself down onto it.

Obi-Wan carefully made sure everything was saved properly before turning off all of the pads on his desk.

Obi-Wan stood from his desk and stretched, turning to see Cody kneeling in front of Rex, holding his hands and rubbing soothing circles in them.

“Rex… Krell was-” he began, stepping towards them.

“It’s not about Krell!” Rex exploded, yanking his hands out of Cody’s, “That Sith-sucki- He doesn’t deserve to have his name said! Or even thought!”

And that, Obi-Wan knew, was a very heavy declaration. The vode put quite a bit of importance to names. To not say or think a name was a death more final than marching far away.

Obi-Wan sat down next to Rex softly before leaning back and reaching for the clasps on Rex’s armor. Rex tried to take over for Obi-Wan once he realized what Obi-Wan was doing, only for Cody to catch his hands again.

“I can-” Rex started.

“Not tonight, Rex,” Cody said, still firm, but more openly tender than before.

“You’re always taking care of us. Let us take care of you tonight, Rex,” Obi-Wan soothed. When Rex still looked ready to protest he added an emphatic, “please.”

After a second, Rex sighed, letting out most of the tension in his body.

Obi-Wan finished taking off the armor from Rex’s top half, then handed off the neatly stacked items to Cody. He moved back behind Rex and leaned rex back until the man was laying in his lap.

Rex’s eyes were watery, already looking blood shot.

Obi-Wan felt his heart tug heavily at the pain so blatantly in front of him. He moved his hands so one gently cupped Rex’s cheek while the other combed through Rex’s velveteen stubble in what Obi-Wan hoped was a soothing motion.

Rex reached one hand up to the hand on his cheek, laying his hand over Obi-Wan’s and interlocking his fingers. He closed his eyes once Cody returned and started removing the armor from his bottom half.

“He deserved better. It’s not like there were any good options. He was treasonous for far less time than most of us,” Rex said, voice quiet and raw.

He’d already said the same sentiments in many different ways in a testimony that had been over an hour long.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan replied softly.

“Don’t be,” Rex said, a sliver of beskar firmness in his voice, “you already did so much. There was nothing else you could do. Already a kriffing miracle that you got him into a penal batallion. At least he’s safe there.”

“I’m not saying sorry because I think I’m at fault for this happening.” Not entirely, at least. “I’m sorry that this happened at all. Because Dogma, just like the rest of you, deserves better.”

Rex made a noise half-way between a sigh and a scoff. Obi-Wan knew that he knew Obi-Wan was right. And that Rex was also aware of the politics that made the statement something of an empty platitude. And, Obi-Wan knew, even though Rex believed that he and his brothers weren’t in a good position and deserved more, he also couldn’t completely believe it because he didn’t have enough experience outside of his own life to imagine what a better life would be like.

“You can follow the rules. You can do the right thing. And you’ll still get a panel who have never met you to call you a defective product and rabid animal all in one breath,” Rex said, sounding so, so tired. Too tired to even articulate the bits of anger Obi-Wan could sense under the exhaustion.

“Let us help you stop thinking about it?” Obi-Wan asked, noting Cody moving on to the last pieces of Rex’s armor.

Rex opened his eyes to look up at Obi-Wan, his gaze made him look like someone who was drowning, pleading for anyway up and out. Rex stared for a few moments before his mouth slowly drifted open.

“Okay,” he said, voice so soft the word was more breathed than pronounced.

Cody moved quickly with intent from Rex to the desk to deposit the armor, then back to the bed and over Rex, kissing the man as Obi-Wan continued to pet his hair.

“Okay then,” he said, almost as soft as Rex, “just let go and let us take care of you.”

* * *

“And that’s the shitter for the greenhouses,” Slick said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder as carelessly and irreverently as he had done everything else on the tour.

“You mean the latrines?” Dogma asked, trying to reign in his annoyance. Given the predatory grin on Slick’s face, he assumed he had failed.

“Nothing wrong with a few synonyms,” Slick said, grin still growing into what Dogma was certain anyone would call maliciously taunting, “Now come on, just have the armory left, and all the ways we’re not allowed to access it,” he said as he started to lead Dogma back the way they came.

“There is however, something wrong with using inappropriate language. Especially in any official capacity,” Dogma shot back, trying to push down the frustration that had been building this whole time of having to follow Slick around for his tour, “and there’s something wrong with you if you’re always acting so out of regs.”

“The only thing wrong with me, goody-two-boots,” Slick said as he ushered them into a turbolift and punched a button aggressively, “is that I’m right. And people don’t like that I’m right.”

Dogma couldn’t help but scoff. At least he and Slick were technically the same rank, so he didn’t have to worry about disrespecting a superior officer, because Slick was somehow managing to be worth less and less respect the longer Dogma had to be near him.

“What the kriff did someone like you do to end up here with the rest of us supposed scum anyways? You seem more likely to make out with a reg manual than chuck it out the airlock,” Slick poked as the lift started moving.

Dogma opened his mouth to tell Slick to stop disrespecting the regs when the question actually registered, freezing him. He couldn’t help but feel out of his depth for a moment, like he was being tossed around in Kamino’s stormy seas, battered by the waves in every and no direction.

Then he was dragged under into the calm of still water under the waves and currents.

“I killed a Jedi,” he said simply, keeping his eyes locked on the turbolift door.

He heard Slick startle next to him, armor clacking against itself.

“You-” Slick started, sounding surprised and somewhat impressed – certainly not horrified and disgusted like he should, at least – before the turbolift stopped and beeped, letting them know they had reached their destination.

Dogma stepped out of the lift, turning back when he didn’t hear Slick exiting with him. The man was still in the lift, mouth hanging open in an expression of shock and awed almost-glee that made Dogma’s stomach curl like he was about to be sick.

“The armory?” Dogma asked pointedly, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate to never speak about this again as he felt.

* * *

_CT-7567: Hello Dogma, I just wanted to check in to see how you are and how well you’re settling into your new assignment. Feel free to respond at your leisure or not respond if you do not wish to._

_**“CT-7567” has changed their name to “Rex”** _

_Rex: This is Captain Rex, by the way_

_Rex: As you could probably tell_

_CT-6237: Don’t worry, Captain. I recognized your designation._

_CT-6237: I have settled in well. I have memorized where everything is already. I met General Gwasa. She is temporarily in charge of us and this facility until Colonel Hess arrives. I arrived between Colonels, it seems. I hope to be acclimated to my duties before Colonel Hess arrives_

_CT-6237: I wouldn’t want to disappoint him._

_Rex: Is General Gwasa a Jedi?_

_CT-6237: Yes. An old wookiee, too old to lead troops on the front line, according to herself._

_CT-6237: She is similar to General Skywalker in some ways._

_Rex: Oh?_

_CT-6237: She insists on learning and using our names and told me not to worry if it takes me “a few weeks” to learn my duties. Which is a ridiculous amount of time to learn how to perform up standards._

_CT-6237: Not that I’m saying she’s wrong._

_CT-6237: She is my general at the present time and I will give her the respect and deference that she deserves._

_CT-6237: If she thinks it will take me a few weeks to learn to be a part of this battalion, then it likely will._

_CT-6237: Captain?_

_Rex: Yeah sorry_

_Rex: Still here_

_Rex: Just thinking about how she does seem similar to Skywalker_

_CT-6237: In some ways, certainly. She is, after all, a Jedi like him._

_CT-6237: She does, however, not like explosions as much as Skywalker._

_Rex: hahaha_

_Rex: Yeah, definitely don’t want to leave Skywalker in charge of a blaster pack factory_

_Rex: Not unless it’s a seppie one_

_Rex: I’d definitely help him cause explosions in one of those_

_Rex: But how are you?_

_CT-6237: As I said before, I have settled in well._

_CT-6237: I shall endeavor to not need to cause General Gwasa trouble like she’s worried about._

_Rex: ???_

_CT-6237: She took me aside after my tour and told me I was to report to her any issues between me and the others in the battalion._

_Rex: I think that’s more because you’re you and you’re there because of really bad circumstances?_

_CT-6237: Am I really that defective?_

_Rex: No!_

_Rex: No! Absolutely no!_

_CT-6237: Because if I am, it might have been better to get reconditioned._

_Rex: No!_

_Rex: Not happening!_

_Rex: Dogma, I swear, if you try to get yourself sent to Kamino reconditioning or decommissioning I will steal a shuttle, board and pirate whatever transport you’re put on, and then abduct you_

_CT-6237: That’s treason, Captain!_

_Rex: So? It’s not like you’re a stranger to that_

_Rex: Kriff, no_

_Rex: Sorry Dogma_

_Rex: That was out of line_

_CT-6237: You outrank me, sir?_

_Rex: Doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t have brought it up._

_Rex: And General Gwasa’s just worried about you, btw_

_Rex: The circumstances that got you over there were very unusual. You’re not the sort that usually ends up in a penal battalion and the general’s probably just worried that someone’s going to take issue with that_

_CT-6237: What I did means that I deserve at least this, though, sir._

_Rex: Look. I still agree with your defendant that Krell was a traitor and fallen and therefore not a Jedi or GAR general de facto and that you shouldn’t have been declared guilty of any of your charges_

_CT-6237: The court disagreed._

_Rex: A single judge who eats cavier with her thumb-thick glasses on disagreed_

_Rex: Regardless_

_Rex: Most of the people in this battalion were stuck on mid rim bases and tried to sell rations and blasters under the table. They’re very different from you and General Gwasa knows that may cause some friction_

_Rex: Which will be their fault if they do. Not yours_

_CT-6237: I will try not to cause trouble, sir._

_CT-6237: And I’m aware that I’m unlikely to become close to most of the brothers here. For different reasons than in the 501._

_CT-6237: It seems especially unlikely after today._

_Rex: ?_

_CT-6237: I was given a tour by a brother who goes by Slick. I found myself frustrated by him throughout the tour._

_CT-6237: He also refuses to put his hair up as it is technically not at the length where it starts to be required. But he clearly keeps it just before that length so that it seems like he’s breaking regs._

_CT-6237: His entire personality seems to revolve around being vulgar and rude and disrespecting the army, the Republic, and the Jedi to the greatest extent that he can!_

_Rex: Oh…_

_Rex: Yeah, maybe do what you can to stay away from Slick, then_

_CT-6237: Sir, if I may? How are Fives and the others?_

_Rex: Well, healthy, for the moment_

_Rex: Until the next prank war, at least. At least ship-fever isn’t lethal…_

_Rex is typing…_

* * *

“Seriously?!”

“Seriously. You move too slow, goody-two-boots.”

“My name is Dogma.”

“Really? I would have thought your name’s CT-6237 with how often you use it.”

“Yes, with the Colonel. You’re certainly not the colonel, however, and you’re certainly not on your side.”

“Already done. You move too slow, shiny.”

“First of all, I’m not a shiny, I’m just checking thoroughly so of course I’m moving slower than you. Second-"

“Whatever you say, Doggy.”

“Do you have any idea how tempting it is to punch you right now?”

“Oh trust me, most would have thrown a fist, or at least placed a foot, by now. Surprised you haven’t.”

“Physical altercations with fellow members of the GAR are against regulations.”

“Ah yes, the almighty, undefilable regs. More serious rules than those of gravity wells.”

“Do you ever stop?”

“Oh? Stop what?”

“I can very clearly hear your grin. And you know that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Have you no shame? How can you call yourself a vode when you take every opportunity to aggravate your brothers? How can you skirt every reg and shove it in your superior’s face with glee and call yourself a proud soldier of the GAR?”

“I don’t.”

“Excuse you?!”

“I’m not proud to be a jetii slave. I’m quite angry about it and I’ll shove it in their face until the day they finally decide I’m too inconvenient and decommission me.”

“The Jedi are our generals! How can you say that!”

“Oh like you’d listen if I bothered to sit down and explain. You’d just say that every Jedi, all of one or two, that you had the _honor_ to meet was kind and courageous and deflecting shots while making you run into death trap after death trap and remembered the names of their favorite clones half the time. Bet you’d even sing those praises for whichever Jedi you killed.”

“I-I… That’s-!”

“Oh? What, seriously? Seriously, do you actually think that about them? I have been wondering you know, just what makes a guy like you snap and do that sort of thing.”

“…”

“Well?”

“If you don’t already have access to those files, then you are clearly unqualified to know the contents of them.”

“What do you think this is? A meritocracy?”

“Can we please just go back to our jobs?!”

“Sure, sure… Wait… did you seriously just work twice as fast while we were arguing?”

“Well working meant I wasn’t punching you, didn’t it?”

“Careful there, didn’t you know it’s against the regs to hurt another vod, let alone fight him.”

“Oh like you care about your fellow soldiers.”

“Hey now, I do! I care about my vode. It’s the nat borns and their whole kriffing system that I hate.”

“Sure. And that’s why you snuck your contraband into Bright’s stuff yesterday and got him into trouble, I’m sure.”

“You saw that?”

“What do you think I am? A Shiny?”

“Kriff. And you didn’t say a thing. Doesn’t look like you care that much either.”

"Well… Bright did try sneak pilfered energy packs into General Gwasa’s things before she left. I figured that he understood that sort of trick.”

“Ha! Did he really? And here I was thinking he hated you because you got stuck working with me!”

“Also. The regs don’t require me to report something like that if I’m not involved. So, unless Colonel Hess decides that I’m involved, I have no reason to tell him what I saw.”

“Yeesh, all right, I got it. You can destroy me with your regs. Ha, should have figured you’d show a backbone about that.”

.

.

.

“They said he wasn’t a Jedi.”

“Who said what?”

“My defense.”

“Your defense said… how can you argue that someone isn’t a Jedi?”

“I’m sure you can think of a few reasons people would no longer be considered Jedi. And maybe even what they might do as no-longer-Jedi who are still generals in the GAR.”

“Oh…”

* * *

_Dogma: I don’t understand how he even manages it!_

_Dogma: Everyone hates him and he flaunts the regs every chance he gets but it would be easy enough to interpret what he’s doing as breaking them but no one ever actually tries!_

_Dogma: Bright tried to frame him the other day and failed, btw_

_Dogma: But no actual attempts were made to take up the challenge he dedicates most of his life to giving!_

_Rex: Huh… Sounds like he might have just logiced them into thinking that they can’t get him into trouble for it?_

_Rex: But also, if you know how, why don’t you get him into trouble for breaking regs?_

_Rex: Sorry, that came out weird_

_Rex: ?_

_Dogma: Sorry, sir. I'm still here. I’m just trying to figure out the answer to your question_

_Dogma: Because I don’t think I’m not reporting him for the same reasons as everyone else?_

_Dogma: Maybe because I know that while he could be written up for everything, he hasn’t actually broken any rules?_

_Dogma: Except for th_

_Rex: ?_

_Rex: ???_

_Dogma: I’m so sorry, sir. I suppose I should go report that?_

_Rex: Report what, Dogma?_

_Dogma: I did stumble upon him actually breaking the rules. He sliced the factory’s dock’s CCHV system. I didn’t report it._

_Rex: Why was he doing that?_

_Dogma: He recorded Bright and Upstart trying to smuggle some things into a shipment._

_Dogma: They ran afoul of some mouse droids._

_Dogma: I must confess that I found it funny._

_Rex: Wow… So they failed to actually smuggle anything?_

_Dogma: Yes, sir._

_Rex: And then Slick just recorded it for his own amusement and/or blackmail?_

_Dogma: I have no idea about blackmail, sir. I do know that Slick was laughing harder than I was, though._

_Dogma: Should I investigate whether he’s blackmailing them or not? Blackmail is against the anti-corruption regs._

_Rex: Nah, if he’s keeping the aspiring smugglers in line, let him_

_Rex: I am curious, however, about the slicing. Do you know how often he does it and if it’s just for the factory?_

_Dogma: I’m not sure about how often, but the way he talked when I asked him how he was accessing the footage makes me think that he’s done this many times. He also complained about how bad the security at the factory is, compared a lot of the coding to “almost as bad as those purposefully-bad seppie battledroids.”_

_Rex: Purposefully bad?_

_Dogma: Most of it went over my head, but apparently Slick thinks that the only way to make the CIS droids act like they do is to intentionally code them to be bad at fighting._

_Rex: Right. And they’re so bad that we can barely hold our ground, of course._

_Dogma: Was that sarcastic, sir?_

_Rex: basically_

_Dogma: Slick complained about the campaigns too, by the way. Said that the reason the GAR hadn’t overrun the CIS yet was because our campaign prioritization and general war strategy were “even worse than a blue back’s first attempt at dejarik.”_

_Rex: That’s…_

_Dogma: False and extremely rude on top of that! Yes!_

_Rex: I was actually going to say a harsh, but not unfair assessment…_

_Dogma: Sir?_

_Rex: The senate gets to make a lot of the decisions, with a bit more power given to the chancellor. But yes, especially lately, it’s seemed like we’re being ordered to fight so that we can’t win or lose the war_

_Rex: Honestly, even Obi-Wan is getting suspicious that someone’s messing with the planning or information, but no one has time to prove or disprove that…_

_Dogma: I think I do, sir._

_Rex: ?_

_Dogma: I think I have time to investigate, if you want, sir._

_Dogma: I at least have access to the meeting minutes for the earlier campaigns. I should be able to find something for you and General Kenobi to compare to, at least._

_Rex: If you have the time, I’m sure me, Cody, and Obi-Wan would appreciate that for the next time we get stuck in hyperspace_

_Rex: Thank you_

_Dogma: Of course, sir. You can leave it to me._

* * *

“Kriff are you up to?” asked a voice, startling Dogma.

He quickly exited out of the document, sparing a quarter of a thought to bemoan the lost three minutes worth of work, another quarter of a thought to be grateful he had always kept good saving habits so that it was only three minutes.

Slick was standing in the doorway, a slightly confused, grouchy look on his face that was being quickly replaced with a mildly malicious look of glee.

“Uhh…” Dogma answered, internally berating himself for not being able to come up with any excuse, numbers and reports still occupying most of his thoughts.

Slick stalked forward and Dogma quickly turned back to the terminal, trying to close everything and shut it down before Slick could see anything. So of course, there was a hand suddenly blocking him from exiting out of most of what he had pulled up.

“I’m up to nothing,” Dogma finally replied.

“Uh-huh, and reports of… campaigns from year one of the war. Are those bacta shipments? I have no idea what this is going towards but it’s definitely not nothing. Your stealth and computing ability leave much to be desired,” Slick said, confusion quickly replaced by his usual teasing demeanor.

“It’s just… research. I’m just researching in my spare time. That’s all,” Dogma said, trying to shoulder Slick away from the terminal.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Slick said, reaching around Dogma to flick through the different documents, stopping and whistling at the time lapse of forces that Dogma had been working on, “All of this is just for fun that you’ve never done before, two hours past the regs’ recommended bedtime.”

“I’m not breaking any regs. It’s recommended, not mandated,” Dogma said, swatting Slick’s hand away and going back to saving everything. Slick snorted.

“And that sounds like something I would say. You go to bed at the precise time recommended every night. What are you really doing with these that you feel the need to secret them away?” Slick probed, this time sticking his face in Dogma’s way, grin promising trouble no matter what Dogma did.

Dogma stared at him for a few more moments, trying to see if Slick would just give up on his own. Instead, Slick seemed to slowly be getting more and more in his space, and his expression turned more and more scheming.

“Captain Rex asked me to research some things for him,” Dogma finally said, sighing and giving in, at least this might sate Slick’s curiosity enough that he could finish closing everything and go to bed.

Instead, Slick looked truly confused for a moment, before his expression morphed into something more derisive. “What? The oh so mighty captain can’t remember his own battle plans so he’s making you sneak around and do it for him?” Slick jibbed.

Dogma felt his jaw clench at the familiar rising tide of annoyance, “No. I volunteered to look at some things for him, to do research and analysis that he doesn’t have time to do. I know that actually caring about your brothers, let alone superior officers, is a foreign concept for you, but I assure you it’s possible to actually _want_ to help your brothers out,” Dogma replied, not bothering to stop the bite in his tone.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say, goody-two-boots. I’m sure you won’t be opposed to me joining in on this little research project of yours then,” Slick said.

Dogma had to take two seconds to feel shocked before he could process what Slick had actually just said.

“I don’t see why I would let you tag along. You’d just try to interfere and try to goad me into a fight when you weren’t complaining,” Dogma replied coolly, scoffing a little in disbelief. As though he would actually let Slick ruin this for the captain for whatever petty scheme the man was working on.

Slick rolled his eyes at Dogma before replying back, “First, I’m way better at slicing than you, and most computer stuff. Second, you have the stealth of a glitching clanker. Third, this is the most interesting thing to happen here since Colonel Bartur wrecked the hydraulic presses. And fourth, if you don’t, I’ll be making sure to tell Colonel Hess about a mysterious figure lurking about the terminals at night, accessing battle plans,” Slick finished with a victorious smirk.

“You wouldn’t,” Dogma said, eyes narrowing as he tried to discern if Slick was actually bluffing or not.

“Oh, I would. That would also be more interesting than I’ve gotten in a while. Not as interesting as your little project seems to be, of course, but…” Slick trailed off, smirk growing as Dogma felt the muscles around his left eye twitch.

Dogma held eye contact before sighing and turning off the terminal.

“Fine. Meet me here tomorrow at twenty-two-thirty,” Dogma said as he stood and marched himself out of the room, resolutely trying to ignore the glee shining in Slick’s eyes.


	2. The Soldiers

Rex stopped himself when his boot thunked down onto the floor too hard for him to deny to himself that he was pacing.

He stopped and made himself take a deep, slow breath, bringing a hand up and running it through his buzz cut. He couldn’t really feel the stubble through his glove, but the movement reminded him enough of when Obi-Wan or Cody would stroke his head to calm him down a bit more.

He should comm them. Cody and Obi-Wan could solve almost any problem and minimize the damage to manageable when they couldn’t. They were good at working together like that. Sometimes he wished he could fit himself better into their professional dynamic, although he was always quickly dissuaded from that line of thought by Anakin or Ahsoka doing something over the top, reminding him that he had specialized on keeping up with and controlling those two for a reason. Many reasons. Of which many were unreasonably explosive.

The three of them fit together well enough anyways when they had a problem that also required careful application of the terrible twosome.

Rex quickly sobered from the more amusing musings with a sudden reminder of what problem he was now facing.

There was just no way that the long necks weren’t lying about Tup. Sure, it technically made sense for a virus to cause aberrant behavior. And for the Separatists to be interested in causing… _this_ kind of aberrance. Rex shuddered as though to shake off more unpleasant memories before dragging himself back to Tup’s situation.

Something… something was wrong. Rex felt like he somehow _knew_ that the Separatists had been more reactively interested in Tup than trying to recover an asset. That they had no evidence of them accessing beforehand to give any virus to.

Rex stopped himself from the absent pacing he must have started up again as the implications of that thought set in.

Tup had been with his vode for essentially his whole life, never fully alone like most of them. He’d certainly been surrounded by others of the 501st for weeks before this “virus” had hit him. And yet he was the only one effected?

There was no logical way for the Separatists to infect just Tup with any virus. Which also seemed less and less likely the more Rex thought about Tup’s behavior.

What kind of virus would rewire someone’s brain to say the things Tup seemed unable to stop himself from saying?

But why would the long necks lie? If they didn’t know what happened they’d say so and insist on running tests, not lie.

Rex turned on his comm as he sat in the chair in front of what passed as a desk for his temporary lodgings on Kamino, calling the private frequency to Obi-Wan’s quarters on the Negotiator. He leaned back in his seat, exhaling and trying to calm down.

Somehow, by the stars’ mercy, Cody answered the comm directly.

“Rex,” he greeted, clearly a little surprised, “Ob’ika, Rex is on the line.”

Rex heard some static from background noise and a few moments later Obi-Wan was appearing in view. Rex felt himself smile a little, the first time in over a week, at their faces.

“Yes, that is quite suspicious,” Obi-Wan agreed once Rex finished explaining the situation, stroking his beard.

“Not that I wouldn’t put it past the Seppies, but yeah, we know what their attempts at bio-weapons look like and this is way too sophisticated and irrational compared to those,” Cody agreed, giving Obi-Wan a few more moments to think.

“Yeah, it definitely needs more looking into, and I’d like to get Tup back with us, or at least checked over by a vod medic again. But there’s not enough for me to reasonably pull rank,” Rex continued, letting his head drop into his hands to rub at what he suspected was the beginning of a stress headache.

“Indeed. Not enough information, nor time to get it. That seems to have been quite a reoccurring problem for us during this war. One might even begin to suspect that we’re being kept from investigating ourselves, if we were in a procedural holo-novel or some such,” Obi-Wan said, tone careful and controlled, although Rex could hear the slight anticipation.

He also heard the exact same words in his memory in a very different tone. Words that had prompted him to enlist a particular member of the 501st to do what they couldn’t.

And kriff any paperwork or official bookkeeping, Dogma was still 501st in Rex’s book. And he always would be.

And Dogma had already been able to give them quite a bit of information, neatly summarized and sourced. Obi-Wan and Cody had lost so many fewer men on their last campaign by “not receiving” certain bits of bad information, as happened so frequently at the far reaches of the galaxy. Just like how certain vital bits of information were “not received” due to similar interference.

Rex took in a deep breath, pushing down that anger. There wasn’t anything he could particularly do about that now, besides use the new information from Dogma. Information he knew he could trust.

And he could trust Dogma with this as well, ask him to make it a priority. Even Obi-Wan thought it was important enough to give Rex the implicit request.

“Indeed,” Rex finally agreed, “I think it would be very useful to have more time to investigate this. So many suspicious things that could potentially endanger the war effort and the army.”

They talked for a few more minutes, catching up and confirming what their next moves were. Rex back to the rest of the 501st to finish a campaign, then leave on Coruscant (Fives was trying to stay with Tup and Rex was getting more and more tempted to let him as each minute passed). Cody and Obi-Wan were fairly certain they were about to start the final push to secure the planet they were on.

Rex wished them both good luck and signed off. He let himself slump back into his chair before pulling up the messages on his comm and pulling up Dogma’s contact.

* * *

“Oh, come on!” Slick whined. He sounded somewhat angry, but Dogma was pretty sure almost all of the anger was for show. Lightly irritated, perhaps, but Slick wasn’t actually angry.

“No,” Dogma shot back.

“You’re the one who wants the information anyways, not me, I would like to remind you,” Slick grumped, “besides, it’s not like your _dearest captain_ is going to care how you got it.”

Dogma sighed as he input another search term, hoping for more useful results than before. When nothing looked immediately useful he turned around to face Slick from where the other was leaning against a wall and responded, “Captain Rex is a good man, who did not order me to do this, although I would gladly follow that sort of order. He asked me. And I’m not going to ruin his integrity by slicing into confidential documents. Or by trying to make a fake CIS identity,” Dogma added pointedly before Slick could offer his favorite yet-unused trick.

“Yeah, exactly. He asked. And you’d do anything he asked or ordered. You don’t seriously think he doesn’t know that?” Slick prodded.

“I’m sure that as a vod in charge of many vode, majority of which he has very good relationships with, that the Captain is very aware of the authority he wields and I know he wields it ethically,” Dogma said, the last word coming out a little sharply as he tried not to choke on certain thoughts, “the fact that he did ask failures like us to help with this just proves how much he needs this investigated.”

Slick scoffed at that, nose scrunching a little, “speak for yourself. I’m not a failure at anything but getting myself to stop thinking for myself like they want me to.”

“You do realize that you got caught, right? That’s why you’re here,” Dogma pointed out. Slick sputtered, face flushing, which made Dogma snort for a moment before sobering again in accusation, “you also failed to live up to your goal of helping your vode. It’s not like what you did anything but endanger them more than they had to be before you were caught.”

Dogma watched a few complicated expressions pass through Slick’s face before he looked away and down at the floor. Dogma was a little surprised that there was no barb thrown back at him for somehow being an inferior goody-two-boots.

Dogma waited a second more before turning back to the terminal, flipping back to the medic modules he found to work more on how a theoretical disease could work and why it was or wasn’t likely.

“And what about this? Is this even going to help any brothers?” Slick asked, voice heavy with… something, “there’s always a CIS plot and the long necks are always up to something with us. Does it even matter if you solve one little mystery?”

Dogma turned back to look back at Slick. The man was looking at him and the terminal with a firmly set jaw, trying to keep his face blank. The piercing intensity of his eyes betrayed any neutrality, even if all Dogma could really tell was that Slick was feeling a lot, and not what he was feeling a lot of.

“If we solve this mystery, that’s one fewer mystery to solve. Or to let cloud the GAR’s perspective. Also, the Kaminoans are likely lying to some of our most active battalions about the cause of something that can make a solider lose all will except to kill their commanding officer in the middle of battle. It was a miracle there were others to take over and make sure that everyone else didn’t die,” Dogma replied matter-of-factly.

Slick looked at him for a moment more before sighing and trudging back over to the terminal.

“Fine. Then trust me when I say medical fact sheets are _not_ the place to catch a long neck’s lie,” Slick said as pulled over a chair and let himself fall into it.

“I am not letting you slice into whatever secret medical reports just for your entertainment,” Dogma said, closing out of the browser and facing Slick again, crossing his arms.

Slick snorted as he took over the terminal, elbowing Dogma out of the way. “Maybe I just don’t like the idea of getting my will stripped away from brain at a moment’s notice, you know?” Slick said with a bit of false airs, although Dogma couldn’t quite figure out why it was false. It sounded close to the sort of thing he’d heard Slick say already, “and I’m not looking at their secret science. Long necks are also businesspeople. And there’s a significant difference between secrecy and confidentiality in business.”

“You still can’t ju-”Dogma started.

“Look,” Slick interrupted, voice actually demanding for once, a tone Dogma had never heard him use, “you want to get whatever information this is to your Captain, right? Or do you want to just leave that brother at the mercy of a bunch of lying long necks? And whoever comes down with this “virus” the next time.”

Dogma chewed his lip for a moment before making himself stop. “But the regs…”

“Oh come on, it’s not like we have regs for “the soldier makers are lying to the top field agents about potentially lethal biomedical issues and now support soldiers are independently gathering information” kinds of situations! This is outside of the regs so for once you can at least try to act outside of them!” Slick said, an exasperated grin growing on his face as he threw his hands in the air.

And well… Slick wasn’t _wrong_. There weren’t any regs that explicitly dealt with this situation. And when Dogma thought for a moment longer, he knew that any regs he could apply to the situation weren’t _intended_ to apply. And wouldn’t trying to apply them here then make it an improper application? Dogma had never quite decided if he hated breaking regs or misusing regs more.

“Okay. Okay, so we’re looking at… confidential business instead of secret science you said?” Dogma asked cautiously.

Slick’s usual condescending baseline expression shuddered into surprise before slowly morphing into a wicked grin that got Dogma’s heart beating like he was about to go back into battle.

Dogma felt his face go cold as it drained of blood. It felt like hours before he managed to tear his gaze away from the terminal over to Slick. The man didn’t look pale or drained of blood like Dogma was sure he did. No, instead Slick’s face was almost purple from the red blood rushing to his head and the blue light of the terminal, muscles twitching as the man seemed to vibrate in place.

Dogma swallowed, despite how dry his mouth felt, and slowly moved his hand to pry Slick’s away from the terminal and download what they’d found.

Rex definitely needed this information.

* * *

Rex was only half way through his perimeter patrol when he got a notification of an incoming message on his comm. He quickly glanced to see the incoming message was a large file, from someone who wasn’t a contact or on the GAR network.

That was… suspicious. But the size of the attached file was enough to make him pause in automatically deleting what could very likely be a scam or virus. He decided to deal with it with more scrutiny after his patrol was over.

The communication was still as suspicious when he looked over it again, although it seemed very unlikely to be a scam that had guessed his frequency, what with the bits of security and encryption he could glean without opening it.

Rex did a third check of the burner pad’s security, trying to make sure there was the most safety he could manage, to quarantine whatever virus he might have been about to open.

And he was going to open it. The file, zipped and probably containing many, was too large to not rouse Rex’s interest and take the risk. Especially given… certain parties he had contacted a week ago.

Rex opened the communication, relieved to see a short text message attached to the file, clearly marked with Dogma’s designation at the end. Rex let himself sigh and release tension at the knowledge that he wasn’t about to compromise GAR operations and moved his eyes to the beginning of the message to glance over it.

What he read had him only barely managing to drop into his chair instead of onto the floor. He sat there as sheer, unadulterated panic and terror bubbled up in chest and down his arms, making his hands shake a few second later as he reached out to open the files.

The chrono on the pad told him he’d been reading for two hours when he finally managed to make himself take a break from the horrors in Dogma’s information. He worked himself through some breathing exercises that Obi-Wan had taught to him after Rex had seen him teaching Ahsoka, then fumbled across his desk for his comm, mind racing as it tried to prioritize.

_Rex: I need both of yours’s support to get Tup back with the 501 st_

_Rex: Out of the long necks’ hands into vode hands at least_

_Rex: Maybe Jedi if I have to_

_Rex: But at least away from the long necks and Kamino_

_Cody: ?_

_Obi-Wan: Not that I’m opposed, per se, but is there a reason for this_

_Rex: Not on these frequencies_

_Rex: ?_

_Rex: This is going to be fairly time sensitive_

_Rex: I think I accidentally bought a bit of time by letting Fives stay with him, but not much_

_Obi-Wan: We trust your judgment, Rex_

_Cody: AKA feel free to throw around our weight_

Rex let himself slump over his desk for a moment before picking himself back up and making his way out the door, intent on marching towards the communications center to get Fives to drop whatever he’d been doing to reprioritize on something he knew the ARC would more than happy to do.

* * *

“Kriff, this is such a karking mess,” Cody grumbled, voice as despairing and rage filled as it had been for the past few hours, albeit with more even exhaustion than the last time Obi-Wan had heard him speak, as seemed to be the trend.

“You said that two minutes ago,” Rex replied, sounding even more exhausted than Cody as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“No. I said “Kark, we’re in such a kriffing mess” two minutes ago,” Cody snarked back.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but sigh.

They’d spent so much time trawling though this… he didn’t actually know how to describe the horrors and possibilities of horrors in the information Dogma had uncovered for them.

“Shall we take a break, then? Caf or tea?” he asked, standing up and letting his back pop at the motion.

“How about a nap?” Rex asked in reply. Cody snorted at that.

“Since when do any of us get to take naps?” Cody asked as he let his pad fall into lap, throwing his head back.

“Decaffeinated tea,” Obi-Wan declared, “then we’ll finish up reading and get some sleep and plan when we wake up with fresh heads.”

His lovers grunted and nodded sluggishly in affirmation as he moved into the kitchenette in his room.

When they finally managed to trudge through the last of the information – and the ending note where Dogma explained there were still many loose ends and trails to follow and more information would be sent as it was found, making them all apprehensive about how much more there was, even if they were determined to face it – and get themselves into Obi-Wan’s technically too small bed, it became clear that it was going to take a bit to sleep. Their brains were all still processing the information, trying to come to terms with it and all that it meant.

Someone’s chrono beeped after what felt like seconds later. Obi-Wan could still feel almost all of his muscles tensed from stress. But at least he only felt his usual bone-deep tiredness, instead of the fog of complete sleep deprivation he had before their rest.

Obi-Wan tried to pry his arm out from the tangle of limbs as the chrono’s alarm increased in volume. Eventually Cody woke up enough to reach out from his position at the edge of the bed and turn off the alarm.

“Back to work then?” Cody asked, prying his eyes open.

“Indeed. We only have two days left of leave to plan, after all,” Obi-Wan mumbled back. He felt Rex sigh onto his neck.

“If whatever bantha-fucker did this doesn’t find some way to recall us early,” Rex accused, clearly very very perturbed still.

Obi-Wan found himself similarly disturbed, to the point where he couldn’t figure out how to soothe his lovers except to prod them all up out of their relatively safe, comfortable space on his bed. Obi-Wan hadn’t missed how Cody and Rex had switched from clinging to him tightly in their sleep to making sure he had an inch or two of space as soon as they woke up.

Obi-Wan did what he could to dampen the righteous horrification that came with thinking about the chips described in Dogma’s report. What was left over he resolved to point back at all the information so they could plan.

The amount of maneuvering to get the chips, and what was on them, into the production of the vode and keep them hidden meant that they couldn’t afford mistakes or attention.

They all eventually managed to roll out of the bed. Obi-Wan quickly switched into a fresh tunic while Rex and Cody pulled on their blacks again. Obi-Wan put on water for caff and tea and snagged three ration bars for breakfast. There would be no time to bother with introducing Cody and Rex to more real food this morning.

“Right,” Obi-Wan started as he sat down with them, “Our main focuses are the chips, whatever means were used to do this, and the implications of war-wide manipulation. I don’t think we’ll be able to focus on one without working on the others.”

Cody and Rex glanced at each other and Obi-Wan waited for them to tell him what they were hesitating over.

“Are you sure, sir-” and defaulting back to calling him sir was not a good sign “-that you don’t want to put more focus on… on “the apprentice” in the chips coding?” Cody asked after a moment, voice carefully as neutral as possible, leaving only a slightly tense tone.

Obi-Wan let himself take in a slow, deep breath to focus. “The Apprentice” was almost undoubtably Anakin. Even without all of the other evidence in the information, just the phrasing was enough to make Obi-Wan’s brain guide itself to the Sithly implications. And parts of him burned at the idea of Anakin being targeted to be poached by any Sith, let alone the Sith responsible for all of this.

But he couldn’t let that control him. Couldn’t dash off and ruin everything to wrap Anakin in bantha wool blankets and hide him in an Alderaanian vacation home.

And perhaps his insistence that Anakin knew nothing about this and was only a victim was his own bias guiding him. Obi-Wan knew quite well the number of Jedi falling. The number on watch for falling. His brain insisting that Anakin would never take that step was definitely the attachment that came from half-raising the young man.

“Any orders regarding The Apprentice will be rendered moot as soon as we figure out how to neutralize the chips. I think us three will be able to ensure The Apprentice never comes into play just fine on our own.” Don’t involve Anakin, was what he was really saying. Not to accuse nor ask for assistance. He was to be treated as a liability.

Cody nodded while Rex tightened a fist, even as they all grabbed pads again to start actually taking notes of their plans. Cody and Rex were both incredibly loyal and admirably pragmatic, but Rex had always been a bit more loyal and Cody a bit more pragmatic.

“I had Kix get a brain scan of Tup when we got him back. Confidential. Tup’s chip is… degraded compared to the plans that Dogma found,” rex said, pulling up the diagram of the monstrosity inside the vode’s heads.

“So, what does that mean for Tup?” Cody asked.

“It was first categorized as a tumor, and is noted down as such. But Kix says there’s virtually no way to take it out of him safely with the Dauntless’s equipment,” Rex explained.

“And what about non-degraded chips?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I think he implied that it was only the degradation that made it inoperable,” Rex said a bit warily.

“All right, and we can do that quietly, so that we don’t tip anyone off that shouldn’t be. Checkups are frequent enough, and I’m sure Kix’s medic network can spread the word once things are working well enough,” Obi-Wan continued.

“We’ll also spread among the vode commanders why it’s happening when the medics start moving,” Cody added.

“All right, so you two can work on coordinating with the medics. I can nose around my political sources on some of these leads, see what we’ve got for threads on manipulation. There will be an end or beginning in the senate. The real issue is following up on how someone got access to… the Kaminoan’s development plans enough to do this to you all,” Obi-Wan said, letting himself rub an eye as he prepared to stand. He could hear the water start to boil. “Rex, could you ask Dogma-”

Obi-Wan was cut off by the sound of Rex’s comm going off. He stood and crossed the room as Rex grabbed it from across the table, moving to the kitchenette to the boiling kettle.

When he got back with two mugs of coffee and a pot of steeping tea, Rex was still reading whatever message he’d received, a perplexed look on his face.

After a moment, he looked up and spoke, sounding even more perplexed than he looked, “Dogma wants one of us to put a hacking device at a corporation’s physical server?”

Well then.

* * *

“So… Wait. Oretnam, you said?” Slick said. Dogma glanced back at the document, quickly finding the company name.

“Yes. Oretnam Inc. D’Asten sector is the only listed location. Technically claims to be on Alaxis-IV, which doesn’t exist,” Dogma said, letting himself scoff at the last bit. They had found so many dead ends, painted to look like they continued but were very much the wall at the end of an alley.

He was getting tired of the frustration and irritation that came with each corrupt, pointless end of their leads.

“Oretnam backwards?” Slick asked, mind clearly racing from his tone. Dogma looked back at the word, reversing the letters in his mind.

“Mantero,” he said simply. And then did a double take, “Wait…”

“Mantero, Serenno’s second moon. Serenno where Count Dooku of the CIS is from and leads from,” Slick continued, voice heavy with disbelieving anger.

“But this… this company was one of the ones that… that handled the money transfers to pay Kamino. That Tyranus used to contact Kamino about start up progress and payments,” Dogma said, hearing his words go hollow with shock.

Dogma heard the sound of a boot kicking a chair three seconds later, accompanied by a raging “Kriff!”

“I mean… it doesn’t exactly _prove_ that Tyranus is… we can’t say for certain-”

“Oh, come on, I _know_ you can read between the lines,” Slick said scathingly, “combine this with everything else and you can put it together.”

“You can’t accuse someone on this!” Dogma exclaimed back.

“Maybe not formally. But we have deeper to dig and we’re not going through official channels anyways. We’re not going to wait around for Dooku to throw in an email where he says his Sith alter ego is Tyranus,” Slick continued, voice dripping with angry sarcasm as he stalked over to drop into the seat besides Dogma.

“Well he does like to gloat. Who knows? Maybe he did leave a dramatic declaration somewhere,” Dogma tried. Slick looked distinctly unimpressed.

Dogma understood why. With all of the other evidence, there was really only one picture that made sense. But they couldn’t _prove_ it. And what was the use if they couldn’t prove it?

That was like trying to have everyone follow a rule without making it a reg. And people already broke the regs enough, let alone any non-reg rules.

“So, Count Dooku is Darth Tyranus. Sith apprentice that ordered us a decade before there was any war. Leader of the CIS. The Sith who made sure we all had chips that could strip our personhood at a moment’s notice. And then he pinned our creation on the Jedi that we’ll kill on a single order from the chancellor,” Dogma announced. And now he felt like kicking something. Or better yet, going back to his bunk and curling up to sleep and dream this all away.

“That’s… yeah. Dooku is a Sith that had us made to kill the Jedi. Probably on this Sidious guy’s orders. Kriff,” Slick sounded… lost. Which was very unlike him, in Dogma’s view.

Dogma wanted to comfort him, but his stomach was currently rolling, and he was pretty sure if he tried to move or talk he’d just end up puking all over the terminal.

“They’re practically sitting ducks for us, aren’t they?” Slick asked sometime later. Dogma wasn’t sure if it was a few seconds or minutes or an entire hour later.

He couldn’t help but flinch at the question, then looked over at Slick. His face was painfully neutral, which said quite a bit about just how disturbed Slick was, to try to keep his face neutral instead of in one of his usual scowls or smirks. Dogma could still see just the slightest bit of a pinched look around his eyes.

Dogma opened his mouth, only to close it again when he couldn’t find any words, and just nodded.

* * *

Cody ran, and the extra speed that came with lightweight clothing wasn’t enough to stop him from missing his armor.

It’s not like stealth had stopped him from being spotted in the end, he thought bitterly, although his pursuers hadn’t a good look at his goggled face, so they still didn’t know he was a clone. At least that part of his stealth had still worked.

Cody turned a corner and let himself tilt into the first door his shoulder hit, pushing it open and entering in one single, determined and desperate movement.

Another lab. This one thankfully looked like it hadn’t been used for experiments for some time. Small mercies.

There was a vent, which was probably his best next step to escape, but there were also terminals.

Cody glanced at the door, then back to the vent, then the terminals again.

He stepped back to the door and dragged some equipment in front of it. Once that was done he did what he could to engage the locks and highest security he could on the pad beside the door, then shot it out. Hopefully that would buy him a minute or two.

He dashed over to the nearest terminal and turned it on, hurriedly taking out the scrambling tools and data sticks he’d need to transfer the information securely.

The terminal required an account to access, because of course it did, and Cody cursed as he dug in his pockets for the hacking tools again. He was still impressed, from Rex’s tales of Dogma at least, that the vod had managed to make friends enough with someone who knew slicing. Especially to the point where whoever it was was actually helping them with this.

The hacking tools did their job quickly, and then Cody was loading the information onto the terminal while he pulled up the messaging system.

The scramblers would bounce the path around enough that he should be able to send the information to Dogma. Every flagship’s communications were monitored and recorded, including the Negotiator and Dauntless. And with the information Cody had found, he couldn’t afford that.

No, scrambling the path the information took and sending it to an out-of-the-way factory no one paid attention to was the best way to go about this.

Cody took a deep breath in as the information uploaded and couldn’t help but wince. He glanced down to see the needle-dart still shining from his side. The ones that had hit his legs had already fallen out while he was running.

They weren’t drugged or poisoned, as far as he could tell. Which meant it was best to leave the one lodged deep in his side in until he could actually treat himself. He let a hand drift up to it to apply pressure while he watched the files upload, moving at a good pace that still felt far too slow.

There was a bang from the door and Cody resolutely did not startle.

He knew he needed to have already left if he wanted to survive, but this information was too important. The only way for this whole conspiracy to have happened now was if Dooku’s, Darth Tyranus’s, Sith master had access to the chancellor. That level of compromise made this information worth far more than his stealth or safety.

The door banged again but sounded less hollow this time. They’d probably attached something to pry it open by force.

Cody took a measured breath in as he watched the last of the files upload. He quickly typed out an “Urgent. Highest priority.” Into the message and sent it, watching the terminals glitch a bit from the heavy load of encryption and scrambling the other devices were doing.

As soon as it sent Cody yanked everything out of the terminal, not bothering with proper ejection, and pulled out his blaster again.

Ten shots, a vial of acid, two good kicks with his armored boot, and ten seconds later, the terminal was ready for the scrap heap and Cody moved toward the far end of the room.

He cursed under his breath and his gait insisted on a hurried hobble, instead of a proper walk or run, and made his way to the far corner that had a vent as expected. Hopefully with all of the equipment in the way, his pursuers wouldn’t notice his path for a few extra moments. He didn’t have the mobility, or any force abilities, to replace the vent cover after he went through after all.

Stars, Cody couldn’t help but pray as he dragged himself through the vents, he just hoped that the information got to Dogma. And that it would be enough.

At least he had gotten out a digital copy, he thought as his vision seemed to dim a bit. The longer he went on, the less sure he was that he’d be able to get the physical data sticks back to Rex and Obi-Wan.


	3. The Risen Men

“Okay, but this is still the dumbest idea you’ve ever had. And I’ve heard you say some dumb poodoo,” Slick hissed in a whisper, peering over the rock at the camp below them.

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” Dogma whispered back. They’d already gone AWOL from the penal battalion and stowed away until they reached the 501st’s current posting. Was waiting for an opportunity to fully infiltrate the camp and find Captain Rex actually that much worse?

“I’m just saying. We’re probably more than a little screwed already and someone’s got to be the wet blanket here,” Slick said.

“Oh, so there’s not much of a parade for me to rain on, then. Good,” a voice said from behind them.

Dogma saw Slick freeze at the same time as him out of the corner of his eye. They turned around together, slowly, so see Fives in full armor with his blasters raised at them. Dogma couldn’t tell if they were set to stun or kill. He had no idea which was more likely in this case either.

“Fives,” he started. The man didn’t visibly react, “we, uh… um…”

Kriff. Kriff. He had no idea what to say. They needed to talk to Rex. Fives wasn’t involved and they weren’t supposed to involve anyone they didn’t have to. He needed to figure out something to say to get Fives to keep quiet and hopefully take them to Rex. Instead Dogma couldn’t stop staring at Fives. His throat and mouth also felt like they were stuffed with scratchy gauze and he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be able to talk even if he came up with something to say.

“Hello, vod,” Slick said stiltedly after a moment. Fives’s bucket angled slightly towards him by a degree or two, still keeping both of them perfectly in sight and in the line of fire of his blasters.

“We might have the same face and share some training. But I know for a fact that Penal Battalion Besh-Krill Twelve wasn’t sending us anyone. No penal battalions were,” Fives said coolly. Dogma felt the weight of the patch on the side of his sleeve burn into him even as he shivered.

Fives had never been cool. Only warm or hot. Kind and welcoming or burning and raging.

“Well, no. They didn’t. But your Captain, Rex, sent for us. He asked us for information and we brought it,” Slick explained. Which… you could easily argue wasn’t a lie. Dogma still didn’t like the distortion of the truth, but he bit his tongue because Rex needed this information, kriff Dogma’s preferences. At least Slick was doing the heavy lifting on their less integrous actions.

Fives looked at them for a few moments before his bucket tilted in that way most vode tended to do when they were using internal comms.

A few moments later, Fives’s helmet tilted back, apparently done with his conversation.

“It’s… it’s good to see you again, Fives. I’m glad you’re doing well. Relatively speaking,” Dogma said, finally finding his voice, even if his words came out sounding a bit like he was getting strangled.

“You look smaller,” was all Fives replied with, although Dogma noted how blasters lowered a bit, from headshots to aim at their chests.

“Yeah, that happens when your kit gets confiscated. The armor tends to add some muscle,” Slick bit out. Dogma felt himself stiffen in surprise.

“No really. I never would have known. That’s definitely what my comment was about,” Fives said dryly, “did they take your brains with your kit?”

“Oh trust me, you wish you all did,” Slick bit back.

“Slick!” Dogma said, breaking out of his stupor, “Sorry he- well, he’s not… okay, he’s usually this rude, but he usually has better self-preservation,” Dogma explained. He was a bit surprised, he never would have bet that Slick would get along so poorly with _Fives_ of all people, at least not this quickly. “Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he added, pretty sure he knew exactly what face Slick was making at him. Fives shifted in such a way, leaning back a fraction and tilting his helmet, that Dogma could tell he was surprised.

“You know, I really can’t tell if you’re more or less high strung than before…” Fives pondered out loud. Dogma had no idea how to answer that.

Slick scoffed and Dogma opened his mouth to scold Slick away from whatever insult he was about to throw at Fives when the nearby vegetation moved.

Captain Rex came out of the bushes, also fully kitted up, and looked at them before crossing to Fives and gently directing the man’s arms down.

“It’s fine, Fives. They’re actually here for good reason. Or at least they probably are,” Rex said, tone a little biting as he looked at the both of them. Dogma couldn’t help but wince.

He knew, logically, especially after Fives’s reaction, that the 501st didn’t trust him anymore, let alone like him. But he had thought that his conversations with Rex were a bit more friendly than how Rex was talking about him now.

Slick, curiously, was looking down and away in an uncharacteristic show of… Dogma wasn’t even sure, but it was very unlike Slick. Still, that wasn’t as important as the information.

“Yes, sir! We came with information about… relating to the research you had us doing,” Dogma said, glancing nervously at Fives.

Rex’s helmet tilted towards his brother in arms, not just vod, someone who he actually held close in his heart. After apparently looking Fives over for a few minutes Rex let out a calm, steady “I trust him.”

I trust him. I trust him in this. I expect you to trust him as well. Those were what Rex was actually saying, as far as Dogma could tell. He’d gotten better at figuring that sort of thing out quicker after having to spend so much time around Slick, especially spending time around Slick while he was around a superior.

“Right… Um, Commander Cody got some information to us. A lot, actually, and we’re still waiting to hear back on some leads, but the most important part, or take-away rather, is that the Sith master has to have direct access to the chancellor. For all of this to have happened, there has to be some direct line of contact or manipulation, just… access to the chancellor, his office, his decisions,” Dogma explained.

Fives actually startled in shock. His grip tightened on his blasters for a moment before he shoved them angrily into their holsters.

After a moment Rex took off his helmet. He looked out into the distance, apparently thinking, processing the information.

“How did Cody deliver this information?” Rex asked. Dogma looked at Slick for guidance, not expecting the question. Slick was looking at him similarly.

“A very brief scrambled and encrypted message. We confirmed any of the information we could on our own as well. Dogma has copies of everything,” Slick said, voice steady and calm and, at least compared to his usual tone, something that sounded almost meek.

Rex took in a deep, sighing breath before speaking, “Cody was found a moon away from where he should have been, clearly left for dead. He was found three days ago and is still unconscious in the Negotiator’s medbay, last I heard.”

Dogma felt his stomach drop. They hadn’t known who was going to get the information that he and Slick had needed, General Kenobi, Marshal Commander Cody, and Captain Rex had been switching when they could to not draw suspicion. But knowing he and Slick had still, in some way, been responsible for putting the Commander in that position made him feel horrified.

“I… I’m sorry, I had no idea that…” Dogma trailed off. How was he even supposed to apologize for this?

“Not your fault, vod, not any of our fault’s. Even if we’re all sorry it happened,” the words sounded rote, like the Captain didn’t have the energy to do anything but recite a script. Dogma noted the dark circles under Captain Rex’s eyes as well.

“I’m sorry, Commander Cody is what?!” Fives asked. Clearly just as new to this piece of news as them.

“We’re keeping it under wraps. Cody’s too crucial of a figure to make that info public for a bit. We’re keeping _all_ of this under wraps,” Rex said firmly, turning to Fives, “and that means keeping these two under wraps as well. I’m going to take a copy of the information, rendezvous with Obi-wan on Coruscant. Fives, I need you to keep these two hidden and safe. They’re most of why we know what we do and if that gets out, they will be targeted. Try to keep as few aware of them as possible. I’m leaving Appo in charge, so you’ll probably have to tell him. But no one knows unless they have to.”

“Understood, sir!” Fives said, snapping off a salute, “but… Rex. The chancellor is compromised? How big is this exactly?” he asked, clearly wary.

“Too big, vod, too big,” Rex said, tapping his temple. Dogma saw Fives face morph into understanding before it was consumed by a hard anger, “but we have a fighting chance and we’re going to keep every advantage we have,” Rex continued, nodding at Dogma and Slick.

* * *

_Separatist Fleet Carves Out Trail of Destruction Towards Core and Coruscant_

_ Separatists Appear Over Coruscant; Demand Surrender _

**ORDINANCE NOTICE: All citizens are required to stay inside for safety and security’s sake. If not already inside, go inside and take shelter as soon as you are able.**

**EMERGENCY ALERT: The Chancellor has been abducted by Separatist leadership**

**ORDINANCE NOTICE: Citizens may now leave their shelter and are free to move around non-emergency areas.**

_Hero with No Fear Rescues Chancellor_

_Separatist Fleet Repelled, Coruscant Saved_

_Kenobi and Skywalker Rescue Chancellor, Repel Separatists_

_Did Dooku Really Die in the Battle or Coruscant? Did Palpatine Really Hack Droids to Kill Him?_

_Estimated Twelve Billion Credits to Repair Coruscant After Battle_

_What’s Next for CIS? Three Expert Opinions_

_Rumors of Grievous in Tarabba Sector. Senators Start Discussing Deployment_

_WhatsaJediAnyways: So they’re actually sending someone after Grievous, right?_

_BiscuitBaronDefender: Techinically speaking, we don’t know that to any degree of certainty_

_Cloning_is_Complicated_Okay: Just because something isn’t written in stone doesn’t mean it isn’t written on the walls_

_MyDroidisBetterThanYourMama: I just want to know why the Kriff they haven’t already sent the Negotiator after him_

_Cloning_is_Complicated_Okay: …_

_Cloning_is_Complicated_Okay: I can’t tell if you mean the general or the ship?_

_MyDroidisBetterThanYourMama: Both_

_BiscuitBaronDefender: I thought they were doing maintenance?_

_BiscuitBaronDefender: On the ship, I mean_

_KriffingListen: Well_

_Cloning_is_Complicated_Okay: No._

_Cloning_is_Complicated_Okay: Obi-Wan Kenobi is not an experimental pleasure droid._

**_Cloning_is_Complicated_Okay has banned KriffingListen_ **

_WhatsaJediAnyways: How do they keep getting back in here anyways?_

_Cloning_is_Complicated_Okay: I wish I knew -_-_

_WhatsaJediAnyways: But more importantly, does anyone know why the Negotiator (ship) is undergoing maintenance? It didn’t see any action last campaign as far as I can find_

_WhatsaJediAnyways: It’s in way too high demand to risk being down for maintenance right now_

_Jedi Generals are Being Deployed and Recalled with Little Public Justification_

_Blazing Starfields Shipyards Sues Jedi Order, Republic for Damages_

* * *

Slick groaned again. Dogma shushed him.

“I am so kriffing bored, Dogma. I am going start a study in the different sounds I can make that can be categorized as groans. Don’t tempt me. I’ll make you peer-review it,” Slick threatened, voice sounding tense under the bite.

“Is boredom really that bad in our current circumstances?” Dogma hissed back in response, as quiet as he could be while still being audible.

“You realize our circumstances were gardening and doing laundry for six hours a day, and spending our free time slicing and hunting networks in a high-stakes investigation? And then breaking out of our battalion and smuggling ourselves across the galaxy to deliver information? And now we’ve done nothing but sit and lay and pace wherever Fives decides to put us for the day for the last two and a half weeks,” Slick growled, banging his head back against the wall he was leaning against.

“It’s not like we were doing all of this just because it was _exciting_ ,” Dogma retorted.

“Well maybe _you_ weren’t,” slick grumbled. Dogma gave a look, because Slick had been as visibly appalled by some of the things they’d uncovered as Dogma and he had come along on Dogma’s suicide mission to the 501st. “Okay, fine. Maybe the excitement wasn’t the only reason,” Slick amended, chastised.

“Fives will probably be back in a few hours to move us again anyways,” Dogma said. He understood Slick being extra grouchy today. The storage rooms Fives had been hiding them in were going through deep cleans today, apparently, so they were currently stuck in a much smaller maintenance closet.

“Fantastic,” Slick bit out, clearly unhappy by just the mention of Fives.

“I don’t understand why you two don’t get along. It’s not like he’s a goody-two-boots or anything. I’ve seen him break more regs than you,” Dogma said. It was truly baffling.

“First of all, he doesn’t like me. Probably doesn’t like the look of my face-” Dogma valiantly did not groan at the overused clone joke “- and I don’t like him because he’s a jerk who just drags us around this kriffing camp and stuffs us in cupboards like we’re a pair of dirty socks when inspection comes around,” Slick said, practically spitting out the words.

“Captain Rex told him to make sure we were secure and not known,” Dogma admonished. Slick may not have been the first person to come to mind when Dogma thought of mature people, but he should know better than this.

“I know,” Slick grit out. His face went through a few complicated, unindentifiable expressions before he sighed and spoke again, “I also don’t like him because he doesn’t like y-”

Slick was cut off from telling Dogma what Fives apparently didn’t like that got him so riled up by the insistent vibrations of his own comm. Dogma could hear it rattle against the belt’s pouch from across their little space.

Slick opened the message, looking at it for a minute before his face started scrunching in hard thought.

“What is it?” Dogma asked, maneuvering himself across the small space to squish himself besides Slick, looking at the message directly.

“One of my online contacts finally found something on of those Tyranus leads. Like from when we were figuring out his role in ordering us and didn’t even know he was Dooku. It’s another shell company, or chain of them, that payments and authorizations went through. This company also has some previous use though, like over a year before anything should have happened, almost two, only a month after it was registered,” Slick explained.

“What were they doing with it?” Dogma asked.

“Some messages and one transaction. Can’t get the messages, but the transaction’s easy enough to follow,” Slick said, clicking into the new information, “Company nine-oh-two-three-four-double-oh-six-two-nine-one-eight. Charge for eight-hundred-and-sixty credits? What were they buying, a star cruise across the galaxy?!” Slick exclaimed.

Company 902340062918…

“That’s for the Coruscant Starview Opera House,” Dogma recalled. Slick looked at him like he had grown an aiwha snout, “What? It… popped up a few times when we were researching ties to the chancellor. He likes opera, apparently,” Dogma defended.

“Okay, so the Sith bought a membership for Dooku or what?” Slick asked, turning back to the screen.

“No… I remember thinking the charge was exorbitant and researching it. A season’s membership for even the worst seats costs more. This might be a guest ticket?” Dogma suggested, “Wait. Do you get actual holonet on this?”

“Yeah, why?” Slick asked. Dogma didn’t bother to explain, just grabbed and started searching. Slick let him with a small huff and no resistance.

It took a few minutes, but the time frame made it relatively easy considering he was trying to look back twelve years. There were a few different tabloids reporting on it, mainly for gossip on whether Serenno was trying to use their then-alliance with Naboo to establish better opportunities in galactic politics at Coruscant.

But no matter the conjecture, the fact remained that there were images of then-senator Palpatine and then-Jedi Master Dooku at the opera together.

“Kriff. The Sith compromised him that early? Before he even got to the chancellor’s office? Dooku was a Sith that early on? We thought it was another year and a half,” Slick said beside him.

“No,” Dogma said, feeling himself go hollow with shock, stomach shrinking and tightening into a little ball of pain and pressure, “no. That’s a senator’s seat. And you don’t get to buy tickets without biometric scans. Or enter the building without another scan. That’s Palpatine inviting Dooku.”

It took a few moments of silence, filled with air that was somehow both too thick to breathe in and too thin to get enough air from, before Slick spoke.

“I suppose that would be an easy way to get access. Easy for a Sith to access the Chancellor if he is the chancellor,” Slick said, sounding almost as horrified as Dogma thought he did.

“Wipe… You need to wipe this search,” Dogma said, thrusting the device back at Slick, who fumbled for a moment before getting to work.

“There’s… there is _no_ channel secure enough to tell the Captain about this on. Chancellor is our supreme commander. He has access to everything,” Slick said as he worked, voice starting to get shaky.

“We need to go to Coruscant, then,” Dogma replied, hoping his voice carried some of the determination he didn’t really feel. But there was no other option. And they were already off-record. They had the best chance of getting to Coruscant without being tracked or missed or expected.

Slick looked back up at him, “this is definitely the worst thing you’ve ever gotten me to do. Just my kriffing luck you’re probably right for once.”

“Seriously?! Do you have any idea just how far out I’ve been sticking my neck for you guys? I’m practically Nala Se at this point!” Fives hissed at them from behind.

Dogma startled with Slick, and they slowly pivoted to stare at him. And it was definitely Fives, in his blacks, which explained why they hadn’t heard him, tapping his foot with his arms crossed.

“Look, sometimes mynocks just have to fly, okay? We’re getting out of your hair anyways,” Slick said. Dogma restrained himself from banging his or Slick’s head against the wall.

“Have you ever considered starting conversations in such a way that you aren’t looking for a fight?” Dogma asked before turning back to Fives, “I know what Rex said, but we need to go. There’s more information, even more sensitive, and he needs it as soon as possible.”

“What information?” Fives asked, eyes narrowing as he stalked the last few steps into their personal space.

Dogma glanced at Slick, panicked. Slicked looked back, only looking nervous, but equally as uncertain. Dogma turned back to Fives, who was almost glaring at this point and took in a big, gulping breath. And well… Fives was in on all of the conspiracies and secrets, wasn’t he?

“We found and confirmed the identity of Darth Sidious,” Dogma said softly. And they’d really confirmed it. It was much easier to find proof when you already knew the answer, after all, and Palpatine had apparently been relying on no one looking at him for quite some time. “Darth Sidious, the Sith who ordered our creation and is orchestrating this whole war, and trying to control its ending-” Dogma tapped his temple, where the chip had been until last month, when the penal battalion’s medics had gotten Commander Cody’s orders, “-is Chancellor Palpatine.”

Fives actually took a step back at that, looking shocked before he schooled his face into a less hysteric one.

“Do you actually expect me, or anyone else, to believe that?” Fives said. Although his voice was far more hurt and resigned than disbelieving.

“I mean… we do have proof,” Dogma tried again, “which we can’t send over official comms and well… Slick and I don’t exactly have a trail to track right now. So, we can get the information and proof to Captain Rex and he’ll believe us.”

That had to work. It had to.

“Well, there is a patrol passing through the hanger in five minutes. And then half an hour in which someone could probably get away with one ship, even if it would pull every alarm we have,” Fives said, not able to hide that he had reservations still about them doing this.

“Fitting, since this is the sort of situation that’s pretty karking alarming,” Slick scathed, practically growling.

“Could you two please get along for two minutes?” Dogma hissed, trying to lower his voice so they could continue going relatively unnoticed.

“I’m not sure _he_ can,” Fives said, voice equally scathing, but closer to Dogma’s in volume, “I figured when I first saw you two that I’d be more likely to punch you than Slick. But he seems to excel at surpassing that expectation.”

Dogma couldn’t help but flinch at the verbal jab. He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised these past few weeks if Fives had actually punched him.

Slick though, clearly didn’t have the context for why Fives might want to punch him, let alone be right to do so.

“Excuse-” Slick started to shout. Dogma hurriedly covered Slick’s mouth with one hand, then brought the other up to clamp the man’s jaw shut.

“I’m honestly surprised you haven’t to either of us. Slick is… well, I understand the desire to punch him quite well. And after what I did…” Dogma trailed off.

There was so much he had done. Sided with Krell. Turned down Fives and his group’s overtures of friendship but gone along with them and let them help him, just lecturing them and looking down on them the whole time. Actually tried to follow through on the execution orders.

He wished he knew a stronger word for ungratefulness than ungrateful, to fully encapsulate what he’d done.

“Yeah…” Fives said, sounding almost deflated, somehow, but also somewhat wary, “what you did was real kriffed up.” Fives was looking down and to the side, which was so incredibly uncharacteristic of him that Dogma couldn’t help but flinch again.

“I… I know. I shouldn’t have… What I did was…” Kamino’s oceans, why was this so hard? “I feel like saying I’m sorry means nothing but I… I’m glad that I was the only one being that much of an idiot. I-” Dogma cut himself off to hold back a choking, sobbing sound as he remembered what had almost happened, “I’m so, so glad you’re still alive. You and Jesse.”

Dogma looked back up to see that Fives was back to staring at him straight in the eyes as usual. He had no idea what the expression on Fives’s face meant though.

Fives moved towards him again, the last two and a half steps between them, and Dogma wondered if this was where he finally got the punch that had been a long time coming.

Instead, Fives grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in, bringing their foreheads together.

* * *

“No! We can’t just-”

“Skywalker. Put your emotions aside. The proof remains that the chancellor is severely compromised. That coupled with the disturbing increase in his powers since even before the war means that the Sith is in far too much control of our government. We need to act. With any luck, we’ll be able to keep the Chancellor safe until the Sith is fully defeated and he can perhaps return to power.”

There were a million reasons why the chancellor possibly wouldn’t and shouldn’t return to power once this was finished. But, as he moved back to his seat, Obi-Wan thought Mace was right to not mention any of that to Anakin at the moment.

“The Chancellor would _never_ -”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said meaningfully, “we have no proof any which way how willing or unwilling, knowledgeable or ignorant, the Chancellor is. We do know that the Sith is using him. He needs to be removed, however temporarily, for both the sake of Republic and his own sake. To be under the influence of a Sith is an incredibly dangerous position,” he tried.

Anakin stewed for a few moments, anger rising and rising, filling the air with ire that spilled past his shields. Then there was a flash, a highpoint, crashing past the shields that made Mace flinch.

Anakin stood, his anger telegraphed in every micro-expression and gesture, and he stormed out of the chamber.

Obi-Wan watched him leave before looking over at Mace, who looked back and nodded his agreement to Obi-Wan’s silent plea. Obi-Wan nodded back gratefully.

Obi-Wan followed Anakin out of the chamber far less angrily but no less quickly.

“Anakin!” he called out, speeding up to a jog to catch up before the turbolift, whose buttons Anakin was pushing harshly, could arrive.

Anakin froze at his name, tensing up like he’d been doused with cold water. Then he was whipping his head to glare at Obi-Wan, a snarl on his lips.

“What,” he hissed harshly. And hatefully, so full of hatred.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but let his one eye twitch, which was better than the full-body flinch he’d wanted to do, but still more hurt than he wanted to show. He understood the anger, the situation involved so many emotions. But the _hatred_ … The hatred burned, if only because it was partially Obi-Wan’s own fault for not helping Anakin find its source and uproot it before this.

“Anakin, you know that we wouldn’t even consider doing this if we didn’t have to,” Obi-Wan began.

“Oh certainly, _Master_ ,” Anakin spat, “I’m sure you didn’t want to do this so much that you called an emergency council meeting and told them the Chancellor was a traitor. You never did like him,” Anakin growled.

Obi-Wan took a moment to take in a deep breath and acknowledge his frustration, letting it out with his exhale.

The lift opened and he and Anakin stepped in, Anakin immediately moving to a back corner and crossing his arms. Obi-Wan respected his need for space as much as he could, backing himself up to the other side of lift.

“I have followed our supreme commander throughout this entire war, Anakin, including when it became obvious that there were outside forces influencing both intelligence and policy. I carried out my duty as best as I could. And when I was given information to rectify these problems, I was duty bound to act on it. I do not think your friend is a traitor Anakin. And I did not say so and you are far more than intelligent enough to know that. I know that the Chancellor is compromised and people are dying and suffering because of it. I will not ignore that. As a Jedi, I _can’t_ ignore that,” he said softly.

Anakin huffed and looked down at the floor, refusing to respond. Obi-Wan who, even as tired and frazzled as he currently was, still knew his way around words enough to know when it was best to say nothing, kept silent. He sent out whatever calming, peaceful feelings he could manage, hoping to help Anakin calm down and not be caught in a spiral of negativity.

The lift slid to a stop and Anakin straightened, posture quickly regaining what little tension and anger it had lost on their trip. Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small but sharp tug of pain he felt at that.

The turbolift doors opened and Anakin took a step forward. Obi-Wan reached out with his hand, intending to rest his palm on Anakin’s arm.

“Anakin, please understand-”

“Just stay the kriff away!” Anakin barked, slapping his hand away.

Obi-Wan froze and watched Anakin stalk down the hall away from him.

* * *

The Chancellor was Darth Sidious. The Sith master who had orchestrated the entire war, commissioned the creation of him and his brothers. To die in the war he had created. So that eventually they could be mind-wiped into actual meat droids and kill their Jedi generals. Who had been, by and large, trying their best and dying beside them this whole time. For a Republic that the Sith had also been turning against them.

He had supreme executive powers, control over the army, the senate, political and social elites from all corners of the galaxy. He was one of the biggest players in the galaxy’s underworld and the underworld didn’t even know it. Given the number of training droid and equipment shipments they’d found he was either going to be very well-guarded or frighteningly good at combat himself.

Rex had said he and Obi-Wan were going to get the council to figure out how to protect the Chancellor, which meant letting him know that they knew too much. Except they didn’t know enough and Cody was still in a coma like Tup, even if it was for very different reasons, and only three quarters of the army was dechipped and no one was kriffing ready to challenge Palpatine and they were all going to die and-

“-ma. Dogma?! Dogma!” a voice cut through the fog of fear and anxiety.

Dogma came back to himself, recognizing the feelings and sounds of ragged breathing over a rapidly beating heart before registering what he was seeing.

Slick was kneeling in front of him, looking up at him, a concerned look on his face that felt very foreign to see.

“Dogma?” Slick asked, softly.

And it was the softness there, coming from Slick, that did it. Slick taunted and sniped and snarked and didn’t apologize or coddle or care about others when he didn’t have to. He certainly didn’t go soft, especially not for others.

Dogma took in another shaky breath, clearly audible as he opened up his mouth, trying to vocalize… something. Anything.

“ I… I- Wh-what are we supposed to even do when we get there? What are two _failures_ like us su-” he tried to say

“Neither one of us is a kriffing **_failure_**!” Slick yelled, interrupting Dogma as he stood up, shoulders back and posture proudly defiant.

Dogma couldn’t help but startle at that, looking up at Slick in shock and bewilderment.

Slick looked back at him, eyes wide and expression seeming almost as lost as Dogma felt.

“We’re not failures. I’m not. You’re not. Neither- _None_ of us are failures. Didn’t you ever listen to any of those Jedi?” Slick probed, voice still shaky but seeming to find some direction.

“Jedi… Jedi say a lot of things. And you tend not to believe any of it,” Dogma accused without any bite for once. Slick snorted as he fell down to sit next to Dogma.

“Yeah, well, it’s pretty kriffing hard to be wrong about everything all the time. A lot of them were always willing to at least _talk_ about how we were supposed to be people before soldiers, or worth more than our ability to die on a battlefield,” Slick said, letting himself slide back into some of his usual gruffness, even though he still seemed so so soft to Dogma.

And well… Slick wasn’t wrong, really. Tano and Skywalker and Kenobi he knew personally had all said that sort of thing before. And Ti and Windu and Koon and Yoda and many others had supposed similar quotes floating around the GAR. Krell, Dogma was pretty sure, was the only Jedi he knew of that hadn’t held those views.

“Okay…” Dogma said quietly, “maybe we’re not failures, maybe if we are it doesn’t even matter. But what are two AWOL vode from a penal battalion supposed to do once they smuggle themselves onto Coruscant?”

“Well, I think most of our vode would head to seventy-nines for a nice night out, of visit some landmarks and sightsee,” Slick said with grating faux casualness. Dogma sent him whatever sort of glare he could muster. “But we’re not most vode. So I suppose we’ll be figuring out where Kenobi and the Captain are, maybe see if the commander’s awake. And then we’ll go from there.”

Dogma made himself take in a few deep breaths, which were thankfully slowing down finally, and used those few seconds to think.

“We should try to plan. Depending on how their conditions are and what the Sith is doing,” Dogma said, looking down at his hands and the floor, thoughts starting to race again.

“That’s going to be hard, lots of possibilities,” Slick pointed out, still far softer than usual.

Dogma took in an even deeper breath and raised a hand to splay across his face and rub his temples. Slick started rubbing soothing circles on his upper back and if it wasn’t so effective at calming Dogma down somehow, he swore the softness would have broken him again.

“Just general strategies. And what are priorities are. Palpatine can’t be allowed to activate what chips are left. Or kill the Jedi. Or escape. We’ll have to play our hand carefully and subtly,” Dogma stated, mind starting to crank away again, but this time productively.

“Okay,” Slick agreed with him.

* * *

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but automatically turn on his comm as soon as it pinged, some part of him hoping that Anakin had finally stopped moping in his room and had at least turned him comms back on. Instead, the familiar tones of the GAR general comm channel played before a only slightly staticked voice of a clone came across the airwaves.

“Attention, all members of the GAR: Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord in league with Count Dooku of the Separatist movement. He is a traitor to the Republic. Initiate emergency protocol Starbird Nest,” the voice said, stopping Obi-Wan’s entire world, and the group he was currently stalking down the senate halls with, in its tracks.

Obi-Wan stared at his comm as it repeated the message, before slowly looking up at Mace. Mace was looking right back at him, expression serious. He could also read his friend well enough to recognize the expectant, curious look.

He took a moment to reflect and think, acknowledging the knife’s edge on which they all currently balanced. The Force was moving all around them, pushing currents of millions of different choices, all of which had built up to this moment, around them, buffeting them. They would either jump or be pushed off, and the knife would fall as well.

Would they avoid it? Would the knife strike them? Or would it help them?

It was impossible to know for certain, but they were Jedi, not Sith, and the Force being so loud and clear, almost deafening, was something they would take in stride and let guide them.

And Obi-Wan, the Negotiator, the man with a silver tongue and light heavily-laden heart, the man who had scraped his way through grief after grief to rise anon and anon, twisted and chose which way they would begin to fall.

“Given the evidence I have, that would make a frightening amount of sense. There’s no drawback to being overprepared as well,” he said evenly.

“Still, to say it over the open comms is not the most prudent, or unsuspicious thing to do,” Kit replied.

“True. But we were about to go attempt to arrest the chancellor for _colluding_ with the Sith lord, not expecting one to be in his office,” Mace added. And yes, the general comms likely had been the only way to reach them in time.

“Well, he colluded with _a_ Sith either way,” Obi-Wan said, looking back down at his comm and typing in the code for the guard.

The comm gave a low buzz as it connected smoothly.

“Commander Fox,” Obi-Wan greeted.

“General Kenobi,” Fox returned, “we heard the communication. We’re prepping the appropriate shutdowns for Coruscant as we speak. Is there anything you needed?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but note how well Fox had managed to blend the politeness necessary for walking the senate’s halls with the efficiency of a military man.

“If you could spare some men, we’re about to make an arrest. We’re already in the senate, I can send a ping for our current location,” Obi-Wan quickly explained, confirming that they were to consider the communication legitimate for now.

“Of course, sir. I can also have us meet you at the outer vestibule of his office,” Fox suggested.

“Very well, commander. We’ll see you there ASAP,” Obi-Wan confirmed before cutting off the communication.

He and the others all nodded at each other once before they started back towards their destination.

“Master Windu, Masters Jedi,” Palpatine said, voice more imperious than usual, with only the slightest hint of displeasure like a senator normally would do to show they were angry without being able to be called out on it, “Commander, guards,” Palpatine added when Fox and his men stepped in and fanned out behind them, a flash of surprise flickering through the force before it was hidden.

“In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic,” Mace said, hand drifting over to unclip his lightsaber and hold it at his side, “you’re under arrest, Chancellor Palpatine.”

“If this is regarding that emergency broadcast earlier,” Palpatine said, voice openly contentious this time, “then I think you ought to be looking for whatever rabble rouser has decided to strike at the Republic with such baseless accusations.”

Obi-Wan waited for a signal from Mace, sliding his lightsaber out in preparation with Masters Kolar, Tiin, and Fisto. He felt a gentle probe from Mace and shifted forward slightly as he felt the guards readjust their grips on their blasters and ready themselves.

“We know about your relationship with Dooku, or should I say Tyranus,” Obi-Wan said, keeping his voice calm and even, giving neither aggression nor sympathy towards the likely Sith.

There seemed to be a moment where the air shifted, a sudden change like a switch being thrown, and he and Mace had their sabers lit as soon as they felt it, moving together to block Palpatine, no, _Sidious_ as he flew across the office and into a lunge toward them.

Slick watched the footage on the terminal in the guard’s main office, watching the combatants whirl around each other, blinding the cameras every few seconds as their sabers clashed harshly. Dogma had left a minute ago with practically half of the guard’s weapon stockpile, and Slick was almost certain he wasn’t going to make it in time.

He watched anxiously as the iktotch Jedi got stabbed through the heart then decapitated by Palpatine.

It was enough of an opening finally for the guard to open fire on Palpatine. The Sith deflected the shots, of course, which were absorbed by either the furniture or the vode’s armor. Thankfully none of them had- nope. One of them just sent down. Only clutching his leg, thank goodness, but still temporarily down. The Jedi moved back in again.

The nautolean and zabrak would dart in where they could, clearly looking for opportunities to press the Sith further back. Windu and Kenobi were doing the brunt of the attacking, flowing around each other with clear familiarity.

Kenobi got pushed back by the recoil of an exchange with Palpatine, and seemed to return the favor by lifting a hand up, followed by Palpatine flying back into a chair and tumbling, head over heels over chair, almost to the window of the room.

Then, something changed.

He saw the guard… stop. Stiffen. He’d have likened it to puppets getting their strings cut if they weren’t still standing.

It took the confused and concerned behavior of the remaining Jedi, them falling in on each other, and his vode raising their blasters at the Jedi instead of the Sith that had betrayed them, for Slick to realize what was going on.

Because of course the guard still had their chips. They were expected to take care of their own wounds or go to the Jedi temple. They had no clone medics to receive a specific unofficial memo and conveniently slip in a surgery during their next checkups.

Slick watched in a horrified stupor as his vode moved in uncannily perfect synchronization and fired at the Jedi.

The flashing lights of the blaster bolts were enough to jar Slick out of his haze. He pulled up a few different interfaces as quickly as he could, downsizing the security feed and watching the Jedi deflect the shots down to the floor out of the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t directly slice the chips, but it shouldn’t be too hard to hack into their buckets’ built in comms. The trick was overwriting the priority order from the supreme commander. Slick definitely didn’t have the clearance to renege the order, or the time to slice and find codes that would do so.

But Palpatine ws sitting back in a chair in the office, practically lounging as the Jedi wore themselves down more and more, deflecting blasts that they wouldn’t aim back at his brothers.

The office though… maybe if he…

“Please let this work,” he muttered under his breath, pulling up more interfaces, “Please. Let this work the one time I actually mean it when I say I want to help them, please.”

Obi-Wan didn’t bother to stop the snarl curling on his lip as Palpatine cackled again. He’d let go of his aggression later, once he didn’t have to deal with the circumstances causing it. Including the viscerally horrifying feeling of the blank presences shooting at them. Once in a while he could feel the muffled screaming of a guard’s soul, but even those felt like they were half-way across the senate district, instead of half-way across the office.

“Why masters Jedi,” the Sith oozed, gleeful, “it looks like-”

Palpatine cut himself off as a pulse rippled through the office, making Obi-Wan’s hair stand on end and making him want to cover his ears as electronics shrieked around him.

His and the others’ lightsabers wavered for a moment but did not glitch or go out. The benefits of a kyber based system, instead of pure electricity. The guards’ minds screamed again, louder, before going quiet with uncomprehending shock.

The pulse finished its ripple, dissipating and leaving nothing but phantom aftershocks and the sound of sparking electronics. And then the force shouted.

Anger and relief and determination and the click of a dozen minds _choosing_.

The guards turned towards Palpatine and began firing at him, the anger and determination taking over their emotions and bleeding together into something righteous. Obi-Wan took only a half second to register what was going on before he was ducking under the blaster fire, between two of the guards, so that he could redirect the shots Palpatine was deflecting either back at the Sith or towards the ground. The other Jedi followed suit a moment later.

Palpatine growled, anger howling through the office as he realized the chips had failed. Palpatine’s anger was a dark, consuming anger. A stark contrast to the burning emotion of the vode guards, which was Light and comforting in the same way a campfire meant survival and community.

Palpatine pushed two of the guard back, they hit the walls with twin cracks that Obi-Wan hoped had more to do with their armor than any injuries. He moved in closer, deflecting more shots back to Palpatine.

Another guard flew back and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but despair a bit at how little this part of the battle seemed to be draining Palpatine. They were all far less fresh than the Sith, and the more they lost, the less likely they were to be able to take Palpatine down at all.

The force told him to drop, and he did, keeping his eyes on Palpatine to see what he was about to try.

Instead of anything from Palpatine, however, he heard the office door behind him start to open, and then a rush of air above him as a stun blast flew directly over him to hit Palpatine.

The Sith blocked reflexively, expecting the small lethal bolts they’d been using, and was unprepared to catch the bigger stun bolt that hit his saber instead. Another two shots threw Palpatine further off balance, and then one landed on his chest, which didn’t down him, but it did effectively stop him for a moment.

That moment was enough.

There was a sharp, pragmatic, vicious but firmly Light lethal intent in the force, present for probably nanoseconds before a blaster went off again.

And again.

And again.

Palpatine tried to turn around during the rapid-fire onslaught, and only succeeded in making himself fall down onto his side. His upwards side and back were smoking from the ten holes in the body.

Fox stood behind Palpatine, hands steady even as his chest heaved in trembling breaths, victorious and relieved, even in shock.

A moment later, a wave of darkness pushed from Palpatine through the entire office as the body seemed to explode. Or implode.

Some sort of destruction that Obi-Wan didn’t really have the time to figure out as he was knocked to the ground, the darkness ricocheting in his brain before being forced out.

He looked up as he heard movement, and saw Dogma walking down the stairs into the office on shaky legs. And then everything fell into unexpectedly soft black.

* * *

Dogma watched Skywalker pretend not to cry as he hugged his former master goodbye. It was even more evidence than he had gotten during his time with the 501st that no one had been kidding about the general – former general – being emotional.

He was going off to become a trophy husband and father and cart his senator wife around her peace missions, which Dogma was certain wouldn’t be as boring or routine as they were supposed to be. It wasn’t like Skywalker wasn’t going to be able to see anyone from his time as a Jedi ever again. He’d probably spend a good amount of time on Coruscant anyways, staying barely half an hour away from the temple itself.

Skywalker left, face still wet but smile large, and Dogma watched General Obi-Wan turn his attention back onto Commander Cody. All three of them, the commander, the general, and the captain, all seemed to laugh at something, smiling sweetly at each other as they all gently held hands.

Obi-Wan had been one of the Jedi whose force sensitivities had helped him recover quicker from the aftershocks of Palpatine’s death, as opposed to General Windu’s sensitivity, which had apparently made him more vulnerable, leaving the man still bedridden for at least the next week. Commander Cody was going to be in bed for two more weeks, then stuck in the temple for further treatment for the rest of the month, at least.

The heart monitor near him changed frequency, and Dogma whipped his head back to watch Tup.

It took a moment, but eventually Tup’s eyes fluttered open. They immediately closed as his brother hissed at the light. Dogma couldn’t help but smile as he raised the bed’s angle so Tup didn’t have to stare up at the light’s directly.

“Hey, Tup,” he said softly as he pushed the button for the healers.

Tup immediately opened his eyes again, a panicked look on his face. He started trying to move and Dogma slipped off his stool, gently pushing against Tup’s shoulders to direct him to stay still against the bed.

“Wha- Dogma? How are you here? Where-” True horror made its way into Tup’s face and voice then. “Kriff, Dogma, I-”

“It’s okay,” Dogma tried to soothe Tup quickly, “it’s okay. You’re okay now. The medics and healers made sure you wouldn’t have to hurt anyone again. You’re okay. We’re all okay.”

“What… What do you mean? I… What _happened_?” Tup asked desperately.

“Okay, so…” Dogma started, brain whirling away to try to put everything together in such a way that Tup could understand it, “Okay, so a lot happened. And you’re going to need a lot of medical attention first, so I’m not sure how much I get to explain. But the shortest version I can think of right now is that the Kaminoans gave us all control chips, which gave us _those_ dreams, and yours degraded and malfunctioned, which is why you did what you didn’t want to do. And because of your chip malfunctioning, we started investigating and found out about the chips and at this point everyone no longer has a chip. You needed a different surgery since yours was so degraded, but you’re fine now. Also it turns out there was a Sith lord manipulating the entire war and he’s now dead and we’re negotiating a treaty with the Seppies, currently in a ceasefire with them.”

“What? That was a lot, Dogma,” Tup said, confusion starting to overtake his horror and panic.

“Yes. And it’s the simplest version I have. But, well… your job right now is to recover. And you don’t have to worry about your brain turning against you and using you to kill Jedi anymore. That’s the important parts for you, I think,” Dogma tried.

He could see two Jedi healers, a clone medic, and a medical droid coming towards them now.

“And we’re currently in a ceasefire,” Tup added.

“And we’re currently in a ceasefire,” Dogma confirmed.

“How… how’s the five-hundred-first?” Tup asked, nervous, but not panicked, “Did- did you get to join back up?”

“Kind of?” Dogma tried, that was slightly complicated, “everything’s a bit up in the air, at the moment, especially officially. I… have been working with Captain Rex for a few months. And he’s fine. The five-oh-one has been… as well as usual, as far as I know. Except maybe Fives. He’s been worried about you. If Captain Rex hadn’t gotten you back to the five-oh-one when he had, I’m pretty sure Fives would have staged a rebellion on Kamino to smuggle you out,” Dogma said, a bit of mirth in his voice.

Tup looked shocked at that.

“I should call him, actually. Me and a few others have been taking shifts to sit with you, so he’ll leave to sleep and eat,” Dogma said as the medics approached. He nodded at them gratefully as he stepped out of their way and leaned himself against the far wall. Tup kept looking at him, a curious, almost lost look on face. Dogma tried to give him a reassuring smile, but wasn’t sure how comforting it was, and found himself grateful as Tup turned his attention to the doctors and their questions.

General Obi-Wan stood up and started walking toward Dogma, Tup, and the door closest to them when the doctors were almost done. Fives entered with a frantic, energetic look to him – with Slick, surprisingly – and the general immediately had an arm on Fives’s arm, holding him still and talking for a few moments.

All three of them approached at a much more calm, appropriate for the medbay pace and demeanor. Dogma let his hand mirror General Obi-Wan’s on Fives’s other arm as they came to a stop beside him and Fives started practically buzzing with energy at the sight of an awake Tup. The doctors finished up their checkup with a now distracted Tup, and then left with a word of being gentle on a healing body.

Dogma and Obi-Wan let go of Fives, and the man was perched on the stool next to Tup as soon as Dogma blinked.

“Hey, Fives,” Tup said, a tired but somehow enthusiastic smile on his face, “I heard you almost burned down Kamino for me.”

Dogma let himself roll his eyes in lieu of correcting Tup. He had not said Fives would burn down Kamino, nor would have Fives. Burning Kamino would have been one of the worst plans to try to get Tup off that water world.

Fives just barked out a laugh, sounding tense and almost panicked, but it didn’t stop the near-euphoric look on his face as his eyes roamed up and down Tup’s very much alive, very much in control form.

“Well, I say we leave the two of them to their renunion,” General Obi-Wan said beside him. Tup turned to look at him. “Gentlmen,” the general said, nodding at him and then Slick in goodbye before moving back towards Commander Cody and Rex. Which left Dogma and Slick nodding back and then staring at each other.

“The uh… cafeteria I stopped Fives from completely charging out of had some cool food in the desert section. Called brownies, I think? Want to go get some?” Slick asked.

“How sweet is it?” Dogma asked back, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Slick shrugged.

“Pretty sweet,” Slick said.

“Then no, thank you. I don’t get how you can eat that much sugar,” Dogma said with an amused huff.

Slick huffed back and rolled his eyes, “because I have good taste buds and I like it. Come on then,” Slick said as he lightly grabbed Dogma’s arm and led him out of the medbay. Dogma let him, falling into step beside him as they walked down the hallway, “I saw a nice garden thing with benches on the way down. Another nice reminder of your days farming for a penal battalion.”

Dogma rolled his eyes again, this time even more fondly, “Plants are nice and I’m not letting getting assigned gardening duty make me forget that.”

The garden was clearly for patients, so they could be around nature and move around without having to go too far from their doctors and beds. It also had a number of benches for patients to take a break on, all but two of which were currently unused.

“Any more news on the war while I was with Tup?” Dogma asked after they’d spent a minute in silence.

“A lot of things were said which meant nothing. It’s looking a little more like General Obi-Wan… or Cody or whichever one of those three suggested it, that the Separatists are going to split into factions as they realize just who’ve they allied with. I’m still impressed Dooku managed to keep so many war crimes and sapient right crimes out of Seppie press, honestly,” Slick commented.

“If that means less of the galaxy for anyone to fight, then I think I’m fine with that,” Dogma said, letting himself lean against Slick’s shoulder, which Slick returned until they were keeping themselves balanced with equal pressure.

“Are you going back to your back to your legion, then? Leaving us delinquents in our penal factory?” Slick asked, bitterness almost completely masked by a joking tone. But Dogma had spent months now listening to Slick’s various non-serious tones, and could easily pick out the bits of seriousness Slick had never actually gotten rid of.

“You know you don’t have to stay now, right? There are already a few who left through the Jedi’s new rules, since they’re the highest ranking in the GAR without a chancellor. Sure there’s no severance package until they can argue the senate around to it, but you _can_ leave,” Dogma pointed out.

“I know,” Slick said, voice uncharacteristically neutral in caution, like he was hiding something he didn’t want to say, before Slick remembered to cover it up with sarcasm, “I suppose the Jedi aren’t that bad,” he said with a theatrically resigned sigh.

“Most of them, at least,” Dogma agreed. Rules and regulations only got you more to most compliance, not complete compliance. He was pretty sure now that no organization was ever completely compliant with itself.

It unsettled him, but less than he thought believing something like that would.

“General Obi-Wan actually wants me to work here on Coruscant with intelligence to officially uncover all the backroom dealing we found and then anything else we can find. I’m pretty sure he’s going to ask you as well, as soon as he can get himself alone in the same private room with you. Or at least a turbolift with one of his,” Dogma said, a smile growing on his face.

“Oh,” Slick said, sounding blank with surprise. The tone matched the expression Dogma saw on his face as he turned away from watching the small stream in the middle of the garden.

“Yes. I’ve already accepted to at least help them get everything we found ready for presentation to the senate. I’m also talking with Rex about the possibilities of me supporting the five-oh-one, especially if serious fighting breaks out again. But for now I’ll be here doing that for the foreseeable future,” Dogma said, watching Slick’s face as it tried and failed a few times to morph into one of Slick’s usual devaronian-may-care masks.

“Oh,” Slick said again, looking and sounding like every brother did when they were trying to hide something from someone close to them and failing badly, which always spiraled worse and worse as they realized they were failing, “maybe I can… maybe I can join you, then. If the general asks me.”

Slick, besides being hilariously unslick, was clearly nervous. It took a second for it to click in Dogma’s head what about. And the fact that Slick was seriously trying to hide _that_ , didn’t think Dogma had noticed or noticed Slick in turn, made him laugh.

Slick looked confused for a moment, before opening his mouth with a much more normal mildly but dramatically offended face. Dogma grabbed his shirt and pulled their faces close together before Slick could speak, which surprised Slick into shutting his mouth for once.

“You, Slick, are one of the rudest, most rebellious hedonists I know, did you know that?” Dogma asked, feeling a smile that was probably close to a smirk on his own face.

“No, really. Me? I had no idea you thought that way,” Slick said with mock hurt, playing into their usual banter even though he was clearly still nervous. But his gaze kept dropping to Dogma’s lips.

“Yes. And you’re also somehow the best at being both annoyingly intelligent and stupid at the same time,” Dogma said.

And then he closed the last inch of space and brought their lips together.

Dogma had never kissed anyone before, and it felt weird, but it also felt right. Especially after a second when Slick got over his shock and kissed back.

Dogma was pretty sure he was going to like kissing Slick.

They broke off the kiss, panting, after a little bit. Dogma hadn’t bothered to keep time.

“Did you know you’re actually a real bastard?” Slick asked, smile clear from his tone, even if Dogma was too busy to look down at his mouth.

“Takes one to know one,” he replied, another smile that was definitely a smirk on his face.

Then he felt Slick’s hand on the back of his neck as Slick pulled him in for another kiss.


End file.
